Just A Phone Call Away
by Archangel-dare
Summary: She's a being of action, and sitting in her room at the Avenger's facility, staring at a phone, expecting it to ring was not acting. She had held Loki's scepter in her hands once, yet this measly phone felt like it held more power over the future than any alien tech. Natasha took a deep breath and pressed send to dial the only number in the phone. Slight Civil War spoilers
God, she was stupid. She was like a teenager with her first crush. If she was still in the Red Room, her trainers would knock her flat on her back for how many times she had sat in this room, staring at the burner cellphone she had out on her desk. This was insane! She's a being of action, and sitting in her room at the Avenger's facility, staring at a phone, expecting it to ring was not acting. Natasha stood off her bed and grabbed the phone off of the desk. She had held Loki's scepter in her hands once, yet this measly phone felt like it held more power over the future than any alien tech. She took a deep breath and pressed send to dial the only number in the phone. The codename was so unoriginal she wanted to laugh.

The phone started to ring. She paced around the room, feeling the plush carpet beneath her painted toes. Her heart was racing in her chest. Her breaths were shallow. Her palms were sweaty. Her hands were shaking. She felt like she was going to throw up. This was officially one of her dumbest ideas to date. A permanent path was almost burned into the floor from her speed walking in an oval shape. She should hang up and pretend this never happened. Why wasn't she hanging up? Why wasn't someone answering the other line? Her stomach felt like a lead weight in her body. She was going to throw up. Natasha almost hung up the phone and sprinted to the adjoined bathroom, but a rich voice on the other line stopped her jittery motions.

"Hello?" The deep baritone voice cascaded her ear drums. How long had it been since she had heard it? Immediately, like an addict who had gotten a fix, her body settled. She took a deep breath and felt her tense shoulders relax. She stayed quiet, unsure what to say now.

"Hello? Tony? Is everything alright?" His voice sounded anxious. Her brain screamed at her to say something. She took a deep breath, still not convinced that she wouldn't vomit if she opened her mouth.

"Tony, where are you? What's wrong?" _'Here goes nothing,'_ she thought. She took another deep breath.

"Hi-ya Soldier." Her words sounded breathless and husky to her own ears; just like he would remember it. She could almost visibly see his shoulders relax and could hear him take a deep breath.

"Nat. How did you—?"

"Tony showed it to me, thought it might be beneficial that I know, second in command and all." Natasha sat on her bed with her legs crossed, playing with the overlarge SHIELD sweatshirt she had taken from his room, before—

"Not that I don't appreciate the call, but why are you calling?" She wondered if she should lie. If she lied, she wouldn't show how weak she was. She could still pretend like she wasn't starving for any news of him, like she wasn't waiting for him to walk through the doors of the Avenger's facility.

"Nat?" He thought she had hung up, but he could still hear her breathing.

"…I guess I just wanted to hear your voice." She took a shaky breath, feeling the tears pooling in her eyes. She wiped a stray tear away with her sleeve. He sighed on the other end.

"Nat—"

"Where are you, Rogers?" Her voice was breathy and small.

"You know I can't tell you that, Nat." He sounded a little tired. Was it night time wherever he was? She switched her strategy, trying to keep herself from crying and syphon whatever information she could.

"Fine, then…what are you wearing? Or better yet, what are you not wearing?" She lay back on her bed, still playing with the hem of his sweatshirt. She stretched a legging clad leg in the air, waiting for his reply.

"Nat, no, we are not doing this." His voice was filled with embarrassment and a hint of laughter.

"Come on, Rogers. I know for a fact you are interested in doing naughty things over the phone."

"That is the last time I play Truth or Dare with you anywhere near the vicinity."

"I bet you're wearing khakis; you love your khakis." His rich laughter floated through her ears. When he really let go, Steve had the kind of contagious laugh that consumed his whole body.

"I was wearing khakis earlier." He laughed. She giggled and slapped her forehead. She was a grown woman, a spy, an assassin; she did not giggle.

"So that tells me it's night wherever you are. You would only take off your khakis to sleep" She pursed her lips, happy that she could narrow down his whereabouts even a little.

"Nat, I'm not telling you a thing."

"You don't have to, Steve. I taught you how to go underground. If anyone is going to find you, it would be me." The laughter stopped and she felt the shift in their conversation.

"I know; that's why I gave the phone to Tony."

"Didn't want me to find you?" She resisted the urge to be a little hurt. She knew it wasn't personal, but her feelings had been out of whack lately.

"I didn't want to compromise you."

"How is compromising Tony any different?" She had to bite back the harshness in her voice but couldn't stop the disbelief from sinking through; she didn't call to fight with him. Steve let out a big sigh, and she knew he was running his hand through his perfect blond hair. Steve had that great kind of thick and luxurious hair that looked amazing styled or mused. When they had kissed, the one and only time, she'd had to fight the urge to run her fingers through it herself.

"You've kept a lot of secrets, Nat. I didn't want to ask you to keep another." Honesty dominated his voice.

"You wouldn't have had to ask, Steve." Another deep sigh. If there was a window where he was, he'd be looking out of it, thinking. She wondered if he was thinking of her. Silence filled the line as she scrambled to find something to keep the conversation going.

"So, Sam told me about your third kiss since 1945." She smacked her head again. Why would she bring that up?

"Traitor." He mumbled and she laughed, knowing he had that "disapproving principal" look on his face.

"That was only your third kiss since 1945 right, Steve? Your fourth kiss total?" She closed her eyes and slammed her head back on her mattress; she just couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"No wonder you're such a good spy; you are probably nosier than Tony."

"You say that like it's a bad thing, but I'll forgive you for that misstep. Have you called her? Does she have a special burner to contact you too?" Did that sound as jealously vindictive out loud as it did in her head?

"I didn't want to compromise her either. Especially since she risked her job to get Sam and I our gear." Natasha felt an odd since of pleasure that she was the only person who had a way to contact Steve. Her smile was liable to crack her face. Silence filled the space between them again, but this time it wasn't as heavy. Natasha waited a few breaths, then said the next thing that was on her mind.

"…Steve, are you still a virgin?" It was official; she was a masochist. Why was she subjecting herself to this torture?

"Jesus, I am not answering that, Nat!" She could practically see a blush rising up his throat.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Rogers. I just want to know—"

"If you say 'how much practice I've had' I will hang up and ditch this phone." She bit her lips in an attempt to stop her smile from growing; but her laughter would not be tamed. Steve's laugh joined her own and she relished its sound, wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

They stayed on the phone, talking for hours. As they talked, Natasha twirled her hair around her finger, shifting from sitting up on her stomach and lying on her back. Her mind filled in Steve's movements from the way he would grab his forehead if she said something that embarrassed him to the way he would cover his mouth with the side of his hand when he was trying not to laugh. The subjects floated seamlessly: Vision developing a repertoire of dishes he could cook, Peter Parker's enthusiasm for almost anything Tony said, how the Avengers were doing, how Steve's gang was adjusting to wherever they were, how Wanda's training was coming. The conversation grew heavy when she asked about Bucky. Steve sounded weary and she wanted to hug him, to offer physical comfort, which she didn't do for a lot of people.

"I know what he's going through, but at least he has 2 comforts." Natasha took deep breaths to fight the tears pooling in her eyes. "He had no choice, so that monster isn't truly within him, and he has you, Steve. He has someone willing to fight for the chance for him to prove that he's good." She closed her eyes, praying that the tears wouldn't affect her voice.

"You were a child, Nat; that monster isn't in you either. And I think you've made pretty good use of that chance Barton gave you." She could tell his words weren't simply to placate her. He truly believed there was good in her. She heard shuffling, and wondered what Steve was doing.

"Geeze, it's got to be like 3 am over there. You need some sleep."

"Well that tells me you're somewhere with a time difference. 6 hours ago you were not wearing khakis, and you aren't in the Eastern Time zone; I'm getting warmer, Rogers." She joked purely to stall him. Since the super soldier serum changed Steve's DNA so drastically, he didn't need as much sleep as a normal person. He still needed sleep, but the serum kept him at such peak levels that he could go a week on quick power naps, meaning trying to guess his location by what he was wearing would be useless. She didn't want to hang up just yet, not when she didn't know if he would answer again if she called.

"No stalling. You need to go to sleep, Nat." The smile was clear in his voice again.

"Fine." She grumbled and bounced off the bed to turn her light off. Steve was chuckling when she slipped into the warm covers of her bed. Hearing Steve's comforting voice and the delicious warmth of her covers was almost enough to trick her exhausted mind into thinking that Steve was with her. She bit her lip, not ready to say goodbye and not ready to ask the question that had the potential to crush her heart.

"Steve…" she hesitated, knowing he was always honest.

"Yeah, Nat?"

"If I call again—" She couldn't finish the sentence. She heard silence for a few heartbeats, but couldn't figure out what he might be doing.

"I'll always answer. Whenever you need me, I'll answer, Nat." His voice was a whisper, as if they were sharing a secret that only they would know. Nat felt the anticipation seep out of her and release the choking grip it had held on her heart waiting for him to answer. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, pooling near her ear and plastering her hair to her face. Her eyes would be red and swollen and her skin would be blotchy in the morning.

"Close your eyes now, Nat, and get some rest." His voice was slow and deep. She nodded drowsily, even though she knew he couldn't see her. She took a deep breath, feeling better than she had in weeks.

"Good night, Steve."

"Good night, doll." She smiled. That was the first time he'd ever called her that. She waited a few more moments, listening to his breathing, then hung up the phone. She set the phone on the dresser by her bed and drifted off to sleep, praying that her sleep addled mind would remember the exact tremor and pitch of his voice as he called her doll.


End file.
